


Unspoken

by WalkingonFirex



Category: Smosh
Genre: Angst, F/M, Ianthony - Freeform, It's really upsetting, M/M, Mild Smut, Sad, mindless angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 12:31:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2309753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WalkingonFirex/pseuds/WalkingonFirex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smosh is over. Ian and Anthony don't know how to live without each other. Ianthony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know what happened. I’m sick and when I’m sick, sad and incoherent things happen. Ah, who the hell am I kidding? My writing’s sad and incoherent no matter how well I feel. -___- ANYWAY, I hope you guys get something out of this. :/ OH, OH! Hey, no hate toward Kalel or Melanie. They are simply pawns in this sick story that I somehow composed.

Ian looks at Anthony sadly. And Anthony can’t look back at him because he knows that if he does, he will break down and he won’t be able to leave. 

But Kalel’s waiting on him, just like Melanie’s waiting for Ian. 

They don’t care that the two of them just shot the very last Smosh video ever. They don’t care that Ian and Anthony won’t be spending all of their time together. They don’t care that Ian and Anthony have been best friends for over fifteen years and that they don’t really know how to live without one another. 

All they care is that they come home. 

Kalel’s planning a wedding; Melanie’s pregnant. Anthony’s close to tears; Ian wants to die. 

Their relationship, it’s always been complicated. Many people assumed that they were more than friends. Ninety percent of their comments on their Smosh videos were _are you two gay? Are you two in a relationship? When’s the wedding?_

But it wasn’t just fans. 

Sohinki admits that he’d assumed they were a couple when he first met them. Mari, too. 

And on more than one occasion, they’d been called ‘partners,’ in public places. Anthony pretends to mind; Ian pretends to find it funny. It pisses Kalel off; it amuses Melanie. 

But it’s not funny, at least not to Anthony. And as Ian keeps giving him that sad smile, he _knows_ that he will break. 

Does he love Kalel? Of course, he does. But he loves Ian more. 

Does Ian love Melanie? Anthony isn’t quite sure. But he knows that Ian loves him, too. 

They don’t talk about it; they don’t have to. It’s always been something that never had to be discussed. Mutually, internally, they decided this. It probably made things worse, but in essence, what can they do about it?

Anthony’s getting married and becoming a director; Ian’s having a baby and becoming a screenwriter. Anthony’s staying in LA; Ian’s going to New York. Their lives are going two different ways. 

And besides, how _could_ they be together? They’re best friends, they _were_ business partners, they’re both in relationships; with girls who hate one another, no less.  They’re also both men and they can barely function in heterosexual relationships, much less a homosexual one, which neither of them have ever experienced. They also don’t know how to _not_ be socially accepted at this point. In high school, sure; they could have easily done it. But now? There was no way. 

Anthony has his health-obsessed, vlogging friends in LA; Ian has his quirky, dorky friends in Sacramento. But they won’t have each other, their best friends. Kalel will have Evelina; Melanie will have Corin. But Anthony won’t have Ian; Ian won’t have Anthony. 

Anthony wishes Ian would stop looking at him like that; it’s breaking his heart. And Ian wishes he could stop giving Anthony that look, too, because he can sense Anthony’s sadness; it matches his own. 

“This is really it,” Ian says, “the very last Smosh, huh?” 

Anthony can only look away and nod. He just can’t look at Ian. His eyes, that gorgeous crystal blue, they’re downcast and Anthony doesn’t want to remember them that way. He needs to remember Ian’s eyes as the sparkling enchantment that they used to be; not this new, melancholy bullshit that Ian’s practicing. 

“Yeah,” Anthony replies, “guess so.” 

Anthony looks down into Ian’s eyes. And he really wishes he wouldn’t have, because if he wouldn’t have, things wouldn’t be so hard now, but he does. He sees that they are begging Anthony, _pleading_ with him. And he knows exactly what Ian wants because it’s what he wants, too. God, he wants it so _bad._

Nothing is uttered between the two as Anthony grips Ian’s shoulders and kisses him _hard._ Ian begins to whimper and Anthony _can’t_ allow himself to cry, too, so he opens his mouth, imploring, _willing_ Ian to stop it, he can help. But even though their tongues muffle Ian’s sobs, it doesn’t stop the fall of fresh tears that cascade down Ian’s face and glide onto Anthony. He does his best to swipe them away, but it doesn’t help much so he guides Ian to his bedroom and removes his and Ian’s clothes. 

Every kiss, every touch, every moan is unsure; reluctant. Because they know this can’t ever happen again. After this, they can never speak to one another again. And how the hell can they do that when they only know how to live _together,_ as one? 

When Anthony finally buries himself deep inside of Ian, he still doesn’t cry. But he buries his face into his lover’s neck as Ian continues to wrack with quiet sobs. Because as much as Anthony doesn’t want to think about it, this is what they’ve always wanted and they’ve finally gotten it and it’s amazing; unlike anything they could have ever imagined. 

But it won’t last. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Anthony whispers into Ian’s ear again and again. “I love you so much, Ian.” 

This only makes Ian cry harder, but Anthony kisses his cheek and his neck and his collarbone as he fucks deep inside of him and jerks him softly. He thrusts softly, slowly, because he doesn’t want this to end. But he can’t hold back anymore when he hears Ian cry out his name in pleasure. As soon as he comes and he can think again, he wraps his body around Ian’s; tangles them together so that Ian cannot leave yet. And it’s this moment that Anthony begins to cry. 

But he doesn’t just cry; he wails. He shakes and shivers and sobs with tears that come and come and don’t stop and they pour down Ian’s arm as he cries, too. They cling to one another, broken; irretrievably broken. And it’s obvious to everyone but them that they belong together, that they need each other to breathe. Maybe if they were stronger, Anthony would call Kalel and see that he isn’t important to her, that they’ll be divorced in less than a year; maybe Ian would drive to his and Melanie’s apartment to find that she will love their child a million times more than him and find someone else in two years. 

But they don’t. And it’s hard because Anthony _knows_ what it’s like to be inside of Ian, to be so close to him that they are almost one; Ian knows what it’s like for someone to love him and hold him and caress him. But Anthony will never know what it might have felt like to have Ian cursing and howling as _he_ came inside of _him_ ; Ian will never know what it’s like, either. 

For a few minutes, they lie there, trembling, crying, _dying_. 

Then Anthony leaves for LA, marries Kalel; Ian moves to New York and has a baby with Melanie. 

And they never speak again. 


End file.
